


Reality of A Saviour

by onereyofstarlight



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode Tag, Family Feels, Gen, Mortality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:53:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24143908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onereyofstarlight/pseuds/onereyofstarlight
Summary: Alan coming home after his first "real" mission inSpace Racefinds his emotional response is not as straightforward as he'd always thought it would be.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 40





	Reality of A Saviour

His hands were steady as he guided Thunderbird Three back to her base in the hangar. The manoeuvre was as familiar to him as the virtual motion of Cavern Quest™, and one he’d been trusted to complete solo for over a year now.

Today, he was buzzing like it were brand new.

It might have become ordinary to land a rocket in his family’s version of a backyard shed, but today he’d done something _really_ special.

Today he’d saved lives.

Sure _technically_ he had been the only person around for a couple thousand kilometres but if he hadn’t been there, if he hadn’t been the one to find the mine, he didn’t know who would have. He did know the exact time to launch Thunderbird Three was twenty-two minutes, from lowered chair to atmosphere exit.

They would have had eight minutes. He had gotten thirty.

And now they had the opportunity to disarm all of them – forever.

There was a dancing flame underneath his skin at the thought.

Was this how his brothers felt every day?

He could see why they’d never stopped, why his Dad’s vision had outlived him.

The thrill, the feeling of importance, of purpose, the adrenaline, it was intoxicating.

He looked down at his gloved fingers in awe before a flashing light caught his attention. Post flight checks. Of course. Today wasn’t special just because he’d saved the day. He was, after all, hoping the experience would become ordinary.

An insistent beep drew him from his thoughts as he retracted the chair. He pulled up the hologram as he moved smoothly backwards, the bright lights of the hangar lighting up his face as much as his smile.

“Scott! How was it?”

“We’re all wrapped up here, kiddo,” Scott said, eyes crinkling at the edges. “John told me you got the job done, how does it feel?”

Alan’s smile grew even wider.

“It was _amazing_! I’ve never flown like that before except in a simulator. It was pulling me backwards, and I had to avoid all this debris, and then John needed to know the serial number and I flipped Three over like she was sub-atmosphere.”

Scott laughed.

“It’s a good feeling, isn’t it? Knowing that you made a difference?”

Alan sucked in a breath as the reality of the moment – _his_ moment – hit him again.

“Yeah, it was the best. When can I go out again Scott, I don’t want to wait anymore.”

Scott shook his head in amusement.

“It’ll be soon, Allie, don’t worry. We’re all so proud of how you’ve grown – and you really kept your head today. You’ll have a few more runs at the obstacle course on the ranch, and you need to finish your deep water training.”

“And then?” The bright note of hope echoed across through the comm.

“Then we can start sending you on missions. Real missions.”

“Yes!”

The cheer bounced around the hangar, loud enough to startle Brains, working on one of the PODs far below him.

“Sorry,” called Alan, waving down at him as he jumped off the chair.

Brains waved back with a smile.

“Is that Alan?” There was a sudden glitch as Gordon shoved his way between Scott and his comm. “Alan, hi!!”

“Gordon, I got to shut down a mine today!”

“I heard! What was it like?”

“It was great!”

He chattered away to Gordon as he trudged back up to the main section of the house. Gordon gasped in all the right places, his eyes widening as Alan spun a tale of daring manoeuvres and fearless flying. The craving to tell more stories like this one only intensified the more he spoke and, already, Alan was itching to go on another adventure.

“And then,” he said, his voice tinged with all the layers of appropriate drama. “It was down to the last second. I flew over on my surfboard, ready to shut down the mine or be blown to bits with it. John read me the code and I began to punch in the numbers. He stopped, and I stopped because there was only one number to go.”

“What was it?” asked Gordon, as eager for a good story as his younger brother.

“We didn’t know.”

A hush fell over the conversation. All attention was on him and Alan relished every second, allowing it to stretch on into the silence.

“I’m sorry, what do you mean _you didn’t know_?”

Scott barrelled into the story, as brutal and quick as a freight train.

“We had all the numbers but the last one,” repeated Alan, enjoying the drama of his story. “‘Seven’s lucky right?’ I asked and John said he hoped so. We only had one shot. I was just about to press it, when John called it in. It was a three. I punched it and soared away as quick as I could.”

“And then what,” growled Scott.

Alan shrugged.

“And then it sort of…. retracted in on itself. It bounced off the ship and I went and collected it in.” He wrinkled his nose. “Sort of a let-down after all that. Maybe next time will have a better ending.”

Neither brother said anything in response.

Alan frowned and looked down at the comm.

“Uh, guys? You’ve muted it.”

Gordon had turned around, clearly doing something else. Alan could feel a pout starting to form as the disappointment that his brothers weren’t even paying attention registered.

Gordon snapped a soundless sentence and turned on the sound again with an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, Allie. I’m back with you now. Great story.”

“Yeah, well, most of it was.” Alan cringed, hating the way his voice turned into a sulk.

Gordon looked irritated, clearly hearing the same tone. Alan tried to pull himself together. Gordon and Scott were coming back from a _real_ mission after all, he couldn’t expect them to pay attention to every detail of his trip into space.

“Look, we’re on our way home now,” said Gordon, plastering an encouraging smile on his face. “Why don’t you have a shower and go wake Virgil. See if he’ll make you some pancakes. I know I was starving after my first real mission.”

“Yeah, sure. Thanks Gordon.”

His stomach felt hollow, but the thought of food had never been more unappealing to Alan before. The electric buzz had faded and everything felt greyer than usual.

He found Virgil already awake when he opened the door to the kitchen. He leaned against the counter, talking intently with John.

Alan did a double take.

“John?”

They looked up, startled by the intrusion.

“Why did you come down? I thought you still had another week on rotation?”

John and Virgil exchanged glances, a conversation lingering in a single look.

“Would you like a hot chocolate?” asked Virgil. He turned to make a cup before Alan could reply.

“I-uh…” Alan looked helplessly at John, asking with an inclined head what was going on.

“Take a seat, Alan.” John nudged one of the barstools with his foot and Alan clambered up. His legs swung as he picked up the sense of discomfort in the room.

“Why are you here, John?” he asked again.

“Checking in on you.” His brother’s voice was strangely gentle. “How are you feeling?”

Alan shrugged. A hot mug was pressed into his hands.

“I dunno.” His voice was small. “I was feeling good, but now I just feel…”

“Exhausted?” suggested John.

“A bit chewed up maybe?” said Virgil, pulling an arm around his shoulders. He was warm and Alan closed his eyes for a moment, allowing the feeling to seep into his bones.

“Just kinda crappy.” He looked down at his hands, wrapped around the mug of hot chocolate. Just a few short hours ago, they’d done something amazing. Now, he clutched at the ceramic mug tightly, afraid that if he loosened his grip, unwanted thoughts would spill from his mouth.

“I told Gordon and Scott about it.”

He didn’t need to look up to see the glance that passed once more over his head.

“They’re coming home.” He slumped in his seat, staring glumly at the drink. “Scott’s mad at me.”

John’s breath caught in his throat. Alan could feel Virgil’s arms tighten around him.

“He’s not,” said Virgil. “I promise you, Alan, he’s not mad at you.”

“But he has to be! I guessed seven! I would have been wrong, I would have been…”

His voice trailed off as he drew the natural conclusion for the first time.

“I could have died.”

Terror ballooned in his chest, too late to save him from a threat that no longer existed. He gasped, his hand reaching out to grasp at something solid.

“You could have,” said John gently, covering Alan’s small hand on his shoulder with his own. “Scott’s not mad, he’s _terrified_.”

“I didn’t, I can’t,” said Alan, looking up at John between wet eyelashes. “I nearly died, John.”

The realisation hit him again and suddenly he was being crushed by warmth and love and for a moment the world was solid enough to allay his fears.

“We’re proud of you, Alan,” said Virgil, his voice muffled against his hair. “It wasn’t meant to be like that.”

“But it can be.”

Alan looked up in time to see John dodge backwards to avoid the smack Virgil aimed at him.

“He needs to know,” he said, glaring at Virgil. “You all risk your lives every day, but you have backup. If something goes wrong up there when he’s alone, he’s by himself. There’s no way for us to reach him. That’s why he has to be the best.”

“He’s just a kid.”

“And we’re asking him to risk his life. He needs to understand the full ramifications of that. We can’t afford to protect him from that if we’re sending him out there.”

“Gordon–”

“ _Gordon_ nearly got killed before he ever got into Four. He knew exactly what we were asking.” John’s eyes flicked down and met Alan’s. “And now, so does Alan.”

Alan pushed his brothers away, getting to his feet. His knees wobbled beneath him as he walked up the stairs without saying anything.

“Alan?” Virgil called after him.

“I need to think.”

He knew John was right. He could have died. He could have left behind his family, trapped again in that suffocating grief. He still saw flashes of it, though none of them acknowledged it. It was a private thing the way Scott still started at the sight of Virgil in the early morning before he’d run the product through his hair, or the way John never took avalanche calls, or how sometimes their Grandma would sit in the garden out back, alone and silent.

He never wanted to cause that same pain.

He might someday.

That’s what John was telling him. That’s what he needed to understand.

His Dad had thought it was worth the risk.

He stumbled on the steps and fell to the ground.

“Alan!”

“I’m fine,” he mumbled as his brothers raced up the steps. “I’m fine, I just.”

He sat in silence, allowing the calm, soothing voices to wash over him. Kind fingers swept back his hair as he stared unseeing into nothingness.

He clutched at the shirt collar that hung in front of his eyes.

“I could have died,” he whispered, before the tears sprang from his eyes. He couldn’t hold them back any longer, pressing into the warm embrace. “I could have _died_.”

“But you didn’t,” he heard John say calmly above him. “You didn’t, Allie. You’re okay, we’re with you.”

He didn’t know how long they stayed there, crumpled on the stairs, awkward limbs supporting his weight and the constant reassurance from above. Long enough that when hitching sobs became slow, deep breaths and shaking hands were stilled, the sun had sunk low in the sky.

“How can you do it? Knowing what happened to him?”

“Happened to who?”

“Dad.”

He could feel Virgil stiffen besides him, how John’s fingers suddenly grew tight on his knee.

“He left us, he knew what could happen, he knew what it would do to us and he still _left_.”

“That was different, Allie.” A hoarse whisper crawled from Virgil’s lips. “He didn’t know it would happen.”

“But he knew it could. And so do you.”

Silence fell amongst the three brothers as they sat, lost in memory and possibility.

“Hey kiddo.”

Grandma. Her steady hand fell on his shoulder. He couldn’t look at her, frozen on the steps with Virgil crammed in on one side and John on the other.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, hurriedly wiping at his eyes which had welled with tears again.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, young man. Now up you get, don’t make me come down there with these knees.”

He stood and she wrapped him in a hug.

“Why did Dad do it? He knew how much he could hurt us if it went wrong. How could he risk that?”

“Your Dad knew what he’d put you through if he got killed. It wasn’t an easy decision for him after your Mom died. But knowing exactly how that felt, there was no way he could sit still and listen to people crying out for help, families who were set to lose as much and more than he did.”

Alan didn’t say anything, hunching over where he stood so that he was the same height as Grandma Tracy. She pulled him towards her and he leaned into her embrace.

“We go out when no-one else will, Alan,” said Virgil, steering him up the steps. “The people we save, they’d die without us. But you have to be the one to decide. It’s okay if you’re not ready.”

“It’s not that I’m not ready,” insisted Alan as he was pushed onto the couch. “I know I am. John, you know I am too.”

“This isn’t about your flying or your commitment Allie.” John leaned over the back of the couch, staring at his hands. “This is about you doing the cost-benefit analysis. We can’t do it for you. You could save hundreds of people. You could also die.” He looked up at Alan. His eyes were serious and there was an unmistakable challenge behind them. “The question is, do you think that it’s worth it?”

“I–”

“Where is he?”

Scott burst into the room, grim stare in place and hair askew. He hurried over to Alan and crouched down in front of him, checking him over with a practiced eye.

“How are you?”

“I’m fine, Scott, I–”

“You,” he said, jabbing a finger up at John. “We’ll talk later.”

He pulled Alan into a crushing hug.

“Ugh, you stink.”

“Can it, sprout. You could have been killed. I’m getting my hug.”

“Give him a chance to breathe though, Scooter,” said Gordon. His lips quirked at the distaste on Alan’s face. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” said Alan.

“We’re just talking about what happened.” Virgil nudged Scott. “Let him go, he’s okay.”

Alan smiled weakly as Scott pulled away.

“How was it?”

“What, the rescue?”

“Yeah.”

Scott glanced at Gordon.

“It was fine. We got them out.”

“Was it close?”

“It was fine.”

“Was it _close_?”

“It was closer than we’d like,” offered Gordon. “But we’re not injured and neither were the people who were trapped. But no risk, no reward, you know that.”

“Was it worth it?”

Gordon tilted his head to one side, brows furrowing as he looked between Alan and the rest of the family.

“Alan is just having a conversation with us about why you all do what you do.” Grandma patted the couch on her other side. Scott grabbed at Virgil’s knee, levering himself upright with a groan and flopping down beside him.

“It’s always worth it,” said Gordon, tucking himself in next to Grandma Tracy. “If we didn’t do it, just think of how many people that’d be just gone. And how many more would be grieving. There’s no way I could sit back and know I could do something about it. It’s our responsibility to do everything in our power to help, that’s what I think.”

“Your Dad was just the same. Always thinking about the next best way he could help people. When he lost your Mom, suddenly he wasn’t only thinking about technology. All he could see were the _people_ that came to help. The rescuers, the doctors, the nurses, true. But more than that, he saw an entire community pull together to get his family off that mountain. And he knew that all around the world there were people crying out for help, people who had no-one to reach them. He wouldn’t let it happen anymore.”

“Dad built a legacy on hope,” said Scott with a sad smile. “The Thunderbirds are great machines, but the people who see them? They aren't pinning their hopes on a machine. They’re looking for a person, someone who’s willing to reach out their hand and throw them a lifeline.”

“Literally,” said Gordon with a grin.

“Listen Allie,” said Virgil. “There’s a million ways to help people, we’ve all seen them. We’ll be proud of you no matter what. It's okay if you want a bit of time.”

“No, no I want to do this. Please. Let me help.”

“How did it feel today?” asked John abruptly.

“It was…” Alan paused. He thought back to the exhilaration as he put Thunderbird Three through her paces, outmanoeuvring the wily mine. He remembered the immense satisfaction and accomplishment as he shut it down for good. The buzz of doing something to be proud of, something useful with his years of training.

He straightened up, shoulders back and head high, full of the same determination that he had approached the mine with n-1 numbers available. There was no fear, only a calm acceptance to do what he must.

“I want to do it. But I don’t want to be alone up there. I’m not ready for that yet.”

Grandma Tracy’s eyes shone, pulling Alan towards her for a hug. John reached out and began rubbing his back gently, only to squawk as Gordon tugged him down and added the two of them to the hug. Virgil and Scott quickly followed suit.

“We’re proud of you kiddo,” murmured Grandma Tracy into Alan’s hair. “So proud. You did amazing today, sweetheart.”

“Thanks Grandma,” whispered Alan.

The family breathed and sighed as one, relaxing into the embrace.

Only to be broken by a commotion, as Virgil shoved Scott out of the group hug.

“Go shower,” he said with a pained look on his face. “Just… go.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> Cross posted from Tumblr, original posted on 22/04/2020


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